


Starving Together

by MaskedMildew



Series: Starving Together: The Series [1]
Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: I'm adding as I go tbh, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Multi, Outdated views on masculinity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 02:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15742257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaskedMildew/pseuds/MaskedMildew
Summary: From one world and into the next.After being snatched off of the throne and thrown into a new land, Wilson finds he has a new challenge to overcome that's unique from staving-off the cold and hunger: socializing.It's been years since he's seen another sane (or not-so) human. Thankfully, these other survivors seem to have the same problem.





	Starving Together

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno, expect each new chapter to be like an episode in a TV series. sometimes they can be funny, other times they can be more serious, yada yada. Wilson will not always be the main POV. No Shipwrecked characters are present, for now.  
> Also, feel free to comment or send me an ask/message on Tumblr if you want to see something interesting happen in another chapter! Whether it be some sort of interaction or conflict. We can play 'Charlie' a little. I'm just winging this.
> 
> Also posted @canadaxed.tumblr.com

Alright, let me tell you about some of the people I've met in this place- and _how_ I met them. 

Please bear with me, this will take some time. 

* * *

I'd only been on this new island a total of, _oh_... eight days or so before, most peculiarly, the intimidating gate I'd been taking notes on finally activated again. The last time it had done that was when I arrived here. I was confounded! Within the gate was a strange rift, and before I knew it, a woman was tossed out of it! I had been observing far-enough away to not be noticed first thing, or _so I thought._

Feverishly, I took notes on this person (after noting the apparent teleportation capabilities of the gate) and the grand total of things I deduced was--!

Eh... well, I'd only written down ' _Black hair(?)_ '. A bit disappointing, really, but I was rightfully surprised! I didn't know what to think about or how to act in this situation, and I'm still not sure to this day what caused her to turn around and spot me. Maybe, in my flustered state, something had pointed me out that I failed to notice? Either way, she spotted me and began carefully making her way over. Her eyebrows furrowed just barely, but otherwise I didn't notice any change in expression. I couldn't tell if she was intimidated or curious, and I couldn't think much on that at the time. 

Once she neared, it must have been apparent how I warily tried lowering myself to the grass under me, because she stopped and I swore I'd seen the faintest of entertained glimmers in her eyes. I regret to inform that that made me... ahem, rather self-conscious. I wasn't used to other humans, I didn't know how to react! I started yelling at her, shooing her away as if she were some dog. To my frustration, she'd only begun to grin. I recall stomping my foot like some spoiled child, all huffy and indignant, and my stress had peaked. I felt akin to the hounds that used to chase me, and it made me realize, sorrowfully, how far I'd come from being my old, human self. 

I'd eventually tired my mean streak, my head had started throbbing from the sheer excitement and anxiety of it all. The smile had left the woman's face, and she continued to approach. Once she was near enough, I apologized as best I could, and I learned her name was Willow.

What I _hadn't_ learned, however, was that she is a pyromaniac, and would later set the only forest in a mile radius on fire.

* * *

The next 'survivor' (as Willow referred to them as) we encountered had stumbled-upon us only two days after Willow's arrival. 

By 'stumble', I _certainly_ mean 'stumble'.

Rain poured from the sky for a full day, Willow and I were uncomfortable and cold. The ground was sopping wet- everything was! When night reared it's head, I was relieved to find the rain hid it's own, and I could tell Willow shared my feelings (hard to make flames in the rain, hm?). 

To compensate for the few hours she spent  _not_ setting things on fire, she made a bonfire, and it was  _magnificent_. 

That next morning was dewy and cold. Willow woke me quickly and silently, and explained she'd heard noises coming from the long grass nearby. It was so early in the morning, the sky was still somewhat dark and my eyes were sleepy, but I _could_ hear what she heard. Fast, hurried steps hitting the damp ground. Whatever was making the sounds moved like a bipedal, but every-so-often the rhythm of it's frantic footsteps would stutter, as if it were tripping over itself.

Soon enough, an odd shape moved into our vision, and was nearing quickly. 

I was too disoriented to act, which was for the best in hindsight. I was too used to fending for myself in a hostile world. Strangely, Willow didn't seem too concerned either.

I believe she has some sort of seventh sense, or something.

In only a matter of seconds- bear with me, for this one- a  ** _mime_** running at full speed to our shoddy little camp tripped on a patch of grass and nearly fell flat on his _strangely intact_ face-makeup. He managed to recover long enough to fall to his knees before WIllow, hands clasped together and eyes wide. Both Willow and I had the feeling that this man hadn't had to survive as long as either of us had, prior. He pointed in the direction he came from (still frustratingly refusing to talk) and Willow and I both saw it at once. A hoard of slightly discoloured bees. The mime and I jumped to our feet, and just as Willow took a torch, as if waiting for the bees to fly right into it, we grabbed her arms and took off.

The mime's name was Wes.

* * *

 We had been travelling with Wes for some time. After about three days or so, after he came back from an excursion, he started seeming more prone to startling, and would constantly mime something we couldn't piece-together. There was one time he had stopped us in our tracks, pointed in the direction he'd gone, and would draw the outline of a flower or bow in his hair. This eventually became so prevalent that Willow and I asked him to show us what he was trying to communicate. He apprehensively took charge, leading us for a day into a dark forest. 

Thankfully, Willow was intrigued-enough to not want to set these woods on fire. At the time, I was still quite wary about having her anywhere near anything flammable (well, I suppose I still am, to an extent). 

We eventually came-upon a graveyard. The sight of it hadn't affected me or my first companion, though Wes had plenty of fear to spare for all of us. In fact, he looked more stricken than even the most fearful of men should be when in a graveyard in broad daylight. We walked a little over a minute in silence when Wes stopped. His whole posture tensed and we froze. I glanced past him to see only the faintest hint of white and smoke behind a cluster of trees. I raked my mind for past beings I'd encountered, attempting to match their descriptions to this one. 

It seemed both Wes and I were too 'inactive' for Willow's liking. She had sighed heavily and headed forward, a rock in her hand-- ' _just in case_ ', she'd told me later.

I followed after her, but by the time I'd come close-enough to see what had been behind the trees, Willow was already kneeling in the dirt and talking with her.

A young blonde girl, in a tattered white dress. A flower was in her hair. We'd learned quickly that her name was Wendy, and she'd been living with only her sister for nearly twenty-three days. 

That information was odd. The small fire Wendy had made seemed insufficient at keeping two people warm, and tracks relating to another person were nowhere to be seen. I hesitantly asked her where her sister might be, and she responded with 'beside you'. It was then I noticed how cold I was, and how my hair had been standing-up. My head turned a little too quickly to either side of me, but I saw no one. When I looked back at Wendy, she had a small smile on her face. I frowned and, embarrassingly, felt I was about to lose my 'cool', like I had when I'd first met Willow. 

I had enough humanity left in me to realize that yelling at a child who was playing some silly game with me was, perhaps, in poor taste. 

Willow simply frowned in confusion, but stood and offered to let the young girl join us. Wendy's smile receded back into her usual passive expression, and she nodded- still staring beside me. At that moment, I had decided I was going to go back and check on Wes. 

He was in the same place I'd left him. Once Willow and Wendy emerged from the trees, he relaxed a bit. In fact, he watched her approach curiously before placing his hands over his eyes and hanging his head. He probably felt quite embarrassed.

* * *

A week and a few days passed. We hadn't encountered anyone new for some time. Wendy was quiet, but there were times at night when she would whisper to herself. I was quite wary of her at the time. I deduced that she may have begun going insane, being so young and living in the wilderness all on her own. Willow seemed to take a liking to her, however. As did Wes, now that I think back on it.

Our group was beginning to solidify as just us four (or 'five', as Wendy would put it). We hadn't found any concrete area to begin setting-up a more permanent camp, but we were all still getting our wits about us. We all had varying levels of experience, when it came to survival.

I had taken Wes with me to a forest I knew was nearby. While I was used to working alone, Willow and I had agreed that sticking together in at least groups of two would be safer. Since she and Wendy already seemed to have a good relationship, I went with the only other option. He was a good choice for me at the time as well- he didn't speak.

Both Wes and I grew increasingly confused, as we entered the lush forested region. A path of trees had been chopped down, leaving only their stumps-- and some of the trees further-away looked to have been gnawed on by something of monstrous proportions. I knew Wes would begin worrying immediately, but we pressed-on.

We'd managed a small satchel of wood before thick webs began to litter the ground and trees they touched. I knew immediately that we were approaching a spider nest, and I brandished the spear I'd brought with me, and I handed Wes his flint knife, which proved to give him more anxieties. What happened next was rather sad, in hindsight, but in the moment all I'd seen was a spider. 

A giant spider egg had laid broken before us, and sitting in it was, what I thought to be, one of it's spiders. Wes and I approached quietly, crouching behind a nearby tree. I motioned for Wes to stay put and he had no qualms with such a plan. I began to approach the egg, spear held ready at my side. My shoes hadn't made much sound on the web, which I was glad for in the moment. Before I could get close-enough to strike, I was startled by the sound of an exerted grunt. A second later, a red axe flew into the ground in front of me, just narrowly missing cutting my shoe, and foot with it. I froze, not being able to investigate where the axe had come from because of a stirring within the egg. My eyes were wide, and I held my breath. The spider within the egg startled and stood-up. It stared at me, and I sensed it was just as shocked as I was. Questions ran through my head. Why did this spider have a humanoid body? Why did it have humanoid legs? How could it look so shocked? 

I hadn't even realized the man walking-up beside me. I gasped when an arm appeared from my peripheral vision, and it grabbed the handle of the red axe, hefting it up. I fell from a crouch and onto my bottom, leaning back to stare up at an honest-to-god lumberjack.

I then understood where the rest of the wood in this forest had gone. 

Glancing at the tree Wes was still hiding behind, I'd seen his arms stop moving. Had he been trying to warn me? Figures. What great luck I had, deciding to bring the mute with me on an excursion. 

The lumberjack muttered something to his axe, and stared at me a moment before holding-out his arm to help me up. My hands had gotten sticky with webbing, and upon glancing to the broken spider egg, I realized the strange spider-creature was still frozen in fear. 

I took the lumberjack's hand, and he hefted me up. Why he felt to be polite in such a moment was beyond me, until he opened his mouth and I realized:

He was Canadian. 

Of course. 

He told me to be more mindful before going with an instinct, and that he was Woodie, the spider-man was Webber, and after a moment, he introduced... his axe, Lucy. 

Wes came to my side, patting my shoulder as if it would offer me any consolation in my time of significant confusion. Wes stared at Woodie, perhaps more shaken than I was, though I couldn't be sure. I stuttered-out the best apology I could muster before blurting-out how I had two other people I was travelling with. Woodie seemed to consider joining us as he walked-over to Webber to console him. Woodie gave Lucy to the spider-man, and it clung to the handle tightly. I felt a little bad. I got the sense that the spider-man was quite young. 

Woodie spoke with Webber (and his axe) for some time before the two of them decided, reluctantly, that they would like to join our group.

* * *

The next survivor I met had, what I believe, the strangest introduction yet. This is quite a feat, given the odd circumstances I'd met the others in my flock. 

We first heard some sort of whimpering in the night. At this point, we had begun setting-up a more permanent camp, as per Woodie's request, just outside of the forest and near the plains. We couldn't simply run, if hounds were afoot, so everyone present (Wes and Wendy had gone off to find a stone outcrop) readied the weapons and other forms of protection they had with them. 

Something peculiar, about this (sad. Terrible, depressing) noise was that it was singular, and I'd never heard any beast sound like this. We all refused to lower our guards, sans Webber, who started fidgeting and glancing uncertainly at their spear (I'd learned that Webber was, technically, two entities. Even if they weren't, I believe they don't care what gender they are referred to as). 

Woodie moved closer to Webber, and at the time I assumed it was to keep them safe, but I realize now that it was actually to calm their nerves. 

After a tense few moments, Willow grabbed a torch from the small pile of them she kept (foolishly) next to her tent. I immediately thought she was going to walk into the woods that the sound was coming from and flush-out the potential threat with fire. I was, thankfully, proven wrong when she left into the forest until all we could see was a faint glow behind the flora. 

She called-out to us, and said something I didn't quite catch in my confusion. Woodie and Webber, however, both began moving towards our water storage. This set me on-edge. I was always anxious about rationing the water, and I still am. I wanted to rush at them and ask them what the Hell they believed they were going to do with that, but before I could even register how to move, Willow was dragging some terribly-off creature from the woods.

The closer she came with it under her arm, I saw it had a face, with a mustache and hair and scared eyes. 

There was a man under all of that grime! Grass, leaves, twigs and dried mud stuck to every part of him, and it looked at if there was also a spot of blood under his left breast. He looked so frail and weak, how sick of Maxwell or... or Charlie to bring such a poor, old man into this torturous world!

I suggested that we should kill him and set him free of his misery. Apparently, I was in the wrong to say such a thing, as Willow (and Woodie, I could feel the glare at the back of my neck) gave me a harsh look. Webber yelled at me for being terrible and always resorting to murder, and he ran forward with a bucket. I was already feeling rather flustered from having everyone at the camp suddenly dislike me, but I could have sworn I nearly snapped just seeing our precious water slosh onto the ground. 

I yelled at Webber to be more careful with the water, Woodie told me to 'come off it'. I'd thought a multitude of harsh and unbecoming things in that moment, mostly having to do with Canadian hillbillies and Woodie's questionable sanity, but I didn't voice them. At least I had the restraint for that.

Willow had helped the man into a seated position on the ground, and Webber thunked the bucket down beside him. The stranger's sunken eyes seemed apprehensive, but it wasn't as if he were in any position to turn-away help.

The situation had managed to upset me, and the other members of my crew seemed to have this all under control. I decided it would be best if I removed myself from the area to take a breather, albeit I decided to leave with a fairly obvious sigh of frustration and eye-roll. I stomped over to the tent I shared with Willow and Wes, and began writing in my journal to get my mind off of the happenings going-on just outside. 

Apparently I had been writing for quite some time. When I'd heard some voices pick up outside of the tent, I also tuned-in to the sound of a crackling fire. Leaving my pen and paper behind, I left the confines of my sleeping area and observed that it was dark out, and that Wes and Wendy had returned. 

Also,  _another_ stranger was in our camp. I didn't recognize this new man at all, but everyone was eating and he seemed to have the most food of anyone around the fire. Wes waved to me, once he'd noticed I was observing them, which made a few heads turn. I felt myself blush under the scrutiny, but my stomach growled and I realized I needed to eat just like any other human.

Shyly, I had approached the group, attempting to maintain my air of confidence while also, pitifully, averting my eyes from everyone. I did, however, catch the eye of the stranger, and he grinned widely. 'Oh no', I'd thought to myself. Sure enough, he was soon bellowing at me to take a seat beside him. Willow, who had previously been sitting at his side, moved to make room, grinning as well. 

I felt awkward and out of place, but I quietly moved to the free spot beside the strange man and sat down. A pile of berries and some rabbit meat was passed to me, and I began eating. The stranger decided he would start telling stories. Loudly. _Too_ loudly. I was getting annoyed again, just who  _was_ this guy!? Internally, I was fuming and working myself up until I'd heard the man say: '-I have been through worse! This little man thought you should put me down, like stray dog'. My posture improved immediately, and I stared at the man wide-eyed. I realized that this... giant, muscular beast had somehow been the same dying man I thought was some elderly old fool. 

I heard people laughing at me, but I couldn't pick-out who. I merely frowned, took my dinner, and left back to the tent. 

This stranger was named Wolfgang. Woodie made him sleep in our tent. He snored loudly and Wes politely refused to sleep anywhere near him, so he went to sleep in the tent with Woodie, Wendy and Webber. I didn't have a good sleep, that night.

* * *

Barely any time was spared before another loud stranger was present in our camp. In fact, she appeared the morning after Wolfgang decided to stay with us. 

The only people who had been up when she started shouting were Woodie and Wendy, and based on what she was saying, I assumed she was speaking to the latter. Such ruckus made it impossible for anyone to sleep (except Wolfgang, apparently. Perhaps he'd damaged his hearing with his own yelling) so everyone had left their tents to investigate the commotion.

I remember blinking and rubbing my eyes several times just to be sure I was actually seeing what I was seeing. A Valkyrie- the ones from myth- stood with an intimidatingly-large axe and a finger pointing accusingly at Wendy, who sat on a log with a neutral expression. I realized Woodie was nowhere to be found. Probably getting wood, but I was still surprised about the small bit of confidence I had dwindling away at the realization that the only _awake_ man who could probably take care of himself had gone off.

The Valkyrie continued yelling something about Wendy stealing gears from a 'fellow warrior' and seemed completely unfazed by the audience she was drawing. I had looked to Willow for help, and she did seem perturbed, but when she looked back at me, it was with a glance that said 'it's  _your_ turn to take the lead'. I hadn't wanted that, at all. My people skills were terrible, and my 'Loud People' skills were even worse. I had no will to look a fool, however, so I straightened my back, tilted my chin up and marched forward. The Valkyrie didn't stop her accusations even as I neared, and it took me multiple tries to even get her to acknowledge my presence. 

Once I finally did have her attention, I nearly froze-up. I stammered, at a loss for words. All I could think about was how Valkyries were seasoned warriors, and that this one could probably tear me limb-from-limb. Her gaze was hard, I felt an embarrassed flush come to my cheeks. I wanted to look to Willow or Webber or Wendy or- Hell- even Wes for help, but I couldn't shift my focus. 

This seemed to be the right move, apparently. The Valkyrie's gaze softened and she started laughing heartily. At this point, her laughter directed at me hadn't frustrated me in the slightest. I was so, terribly relieved. She called me a 'little guy' and complimented us on our 'modest camp' before introducing herself as Wigfrid. I tried my best to greet her in a respectable way, but I felt so suddenly drained that all I managed was a 'hello'. Wendy spoke-up from beside me about how she hadn't taken anything. 

Wigfrid was far less irritable than she'd been moments prior, but still gave an accusing glare to the young girl. She told us that her flock of Valkyries were en route and would sort the situation out, and I barely understood a word she was saying. Both because it was so outlandish, and because she had... well, a rather thick accent.

Surprisingly-enough, Wes stepped forward with a nervous-though-genuine smile and gave a dramatic bow to the lady. She eyed him before nodding her head, and a smile grew once more on her face. She applauded him boisterously for being a fellow performer, and everything was so much clearer, for me.

Of course she was a performer! I am not a religious man, nor one who believes in legend and myth, but I had certainly been ready to accept the fact that chariots carrying battle-ready women were going to descend from the sky to put young Wendy on some holy trial. 

So, Wigfrid was an _actor_. That cleared-up that, but I was still confused about who her 'fellow Valkyrie' might be. 

She immediately was distracted from her previous interrogation to hold a conversation with Wes. Or, rather, she would tell stories about her work and he would occasionally nod to show he was listening. Either way, the situation had deescalated and everyone seemed to be doing fine. Willow approached me with a hand on my shoulder and told me I did just fine.

I wasn't looking for any sort of support, but... well, it did feel rather nice. I awkwardly thanked her, unsure of what else to do, and slowly started for the tent. I was tired, if the rest of these 'Valkyries' were coming, I'd wait for them in my sleep. 

I had barely any time to open my sleeping roll when more voices sounded from outside. I remember groaning and believing the world just wished for me to never get any rest. This time, when I turned around, Wolfgang had sat-up and yawned, loudly. Somehow, I felt more drained.

Both he and I left the tent, him much more rested than I. On the horizon was, oh Lord, three more people. I squinted to be sure I was seeing things right and I certainly was. Wigfrid seemed overjoyed at their appearance, so I assumed that they were the 'Valkyries' she had been referring to. They certainly didn't seem like much, but then again, I  _had_ been expecting giant warrior women to emerge from the skies, at one point.

Once the three had come close-enough for me to identify facial features, I realized that two in the posse were women (fitting, for the title Wigfrid had given her group) and one was... a clockwork. A very odd clockwork. I'd never seen one shaped like that before.

Naturally, I prepared myself as if some sort of battle would have to be carried-out. In hindsight, I was a _complete fool_. What I thought was a clockwork at the time was being carried under one of the ladies' arms in an obvious state of disrepair. 

Upon seeing Wigfrid, who was hopping and waving happily, both of the nearing survivors stuck up their hands in acknowledgement. I noted, with surprise, that the person not attempting to help the automaton was an older woman. She looked surprisingly neat and put-together, considering the circumstances. Once they were close enough, Wigfrid jogged over to help the (quite strong-looking) lady with the robot.

She introduced us. Wickerbottom, a former librarian, Winona, a factory-worker, and WX-78 was the automaton. Webber seemed immediately enthralled by it, even if it were in a powered-down mode. They had approached Wigfrid with a large smile, though apprehensive, and asked if they could give WX-78 a flower crown (But they'd decided 'Wix' was a cuter name, so they used that. Wendy, Willow, Winona and Wolfgang would soon come to use this name nearly-exclusively). Wigfrid accepted almost-instantly. The both of them went-off to adorn the robot in various pretty things, and Wickerbottom nagged at them to be careful around any 'vents'. 

Winona (every time I looked at her, I had to notice just how strong she was. It was rather uncommon for a woman to be so... at least, in the time I was taken from) had quickly gone around and introduced herself to everyone around, wiping oily gloves on her stained pants. Willow greeted her back with a smile, Wendy reacted in her usual, neutral way, Webber was too interested in their flowers to return much of a greeting, Wolfgang complimented Winona on her strength and... Wes seemed smitten. As expected, I was a bit of an awkward wreck when she walked over to shake my hand. I didn't return the gesture, not out of any malice but simply because I was not used to it anymore, and introduced myself weakly. 

Wickerbottom soon followed, but instead of addressing everyone one-by-one, she told us her name and gave a quick 'it is surprising to see others out here, barely surviving as they are.'

I didn't know what she meant by that, but I felt offended.

It was only a few hours later that Woodie returned to us with plenty of wood, some meat and, coincidentally, gears he'd found. Seeing new people in camp, he'd attempted to greet them all with open arms, but Wigfrid spotted his gears and shouted at Winona to help fix WX-78. Winona, apologetically, pat Woodie's arm and took the gears from him before he had any time to comprehend what was happening.

The day had gone on as it usually would have, save for the three new people occupying our base. Winona was hard at work on the automaton until nightfall, when she finally managed to revive it. When it began to whir, and the gears inside of it began to move, Winona jumped back and her and Wigfrid whooped joyously. Webber gave a quiet 'whoop' after the fact, as excited but less comfortable to express such.

The automaton began to sit-up, the noise of machinery and smell of oil was now prominent in the air. Winona breathed it in, and from behind her I actually saw Wigfrid smile. She put a hand on Winona's shoulder and praised her on a job well done, which Winona replied to cheerily. A moment of stillness passed, but soon WX-78 started moving again. First it regarded Webber (or I presumed it had, at least) and then it 'regarded' Winona, starting to stand. I was by the fire at this point, eating berries, and I looked away from the metallic being to judge the reactions of my other fellow survivors. 

Wes was intrigued, and perhaps a little concerned, but he tried his best to smile. Wolfgang was quite curious, but I think he was also ready for a fight, like WX-78 had been encroaching upon his territory. Willow was simply interested, and perhaps a little confused. She was looking all around the robot, maybe to find some sort of power-source or flame? Wendy was as invested as I'd ever seen her. Her face was still neutral and her posture was relaxed, but her eyes stayed trained on the automaton. Woodie, who'd been lingering suspiciously near the wood pile, stared with what I assumed was uncertainty. His axe-- 'Lucy'-- was held close to his face. He might've been talking to it.

There was an odd clicking sound, and Winona spurred-on the being to say something. I could feel everyone leaning-in, on the edge of their metaphorical seats. 

What I hadn't expected.... was for the automaton to have an attitude.

With the flower crown still on it's head, it pointed-out how flimsy Winona's repair-job was (to which she calmly responded by reminding it that she only had a few odd things to tinker with) and how all of us 'humans' (apparently barring Webber) looked as if we were a breadth away from death. I might have been more upset if WX-78 were a human itself, but I was only interested (and slightly taken-aback) by it's harsh scrutiny. Wickerbottom from nearby me quietly muttered her agreement.

After that, the trio-- or rather-- quartet decided they would stay with us until morning. Wickerbottom mused about how their own camp would probably be destroyed by daybreak, but Winona proclaimed that she would be able to repair anything, and Wigfrid shouted about how she would start anew. WX-78 was uncaring, as ever.

Morning came and the group went-off. Despite my protests, Webber and Willow both agreed to give Wickerbottom a spare torch and a few roasted berries, as she'd requested them. They probably decided to abide out of the kindness of their hearts, but also probably because Wickerbottom was a little scary.

Later that night, the four of them were back. Wigfrid and Wickerbottom both had fresh blood (not their's) on their clothes and the latter was droning-on about how she was right, and how it was foolish to attempt to go back when they'd set-up base so near to a hound mound in the first place.

Winona asked us all, ever-so-kindly, if they could stay. I don't think anyone would have objected, but before anyone could  _accept,_ WX-78 chimed-in about how it could probably kill us all and take the camp for it's fellow 'Valkyries'. A loud 'welcome aboard, eh?' came from within one of the tents, and that was that.

* * *

Ah, there we are! Felt good to get that on paper. Maybe someone will find this someday, and we could all be remembered...

This is how I met most of the survivors I am now living with. I'm surprised I could remember most of this, at all! Maybe I'm not as insane as I had believed...

 

~ Wilson P. Higgsbury

 


End file.
